Brokeback Bunkhouse
by sabor ice
Summary: Read this if you want to know the reason Mush was smiling when he awoke at the beginning of Newsies. OneShot Please R&R. Thanks!


_Title: Brokeback Bunkhouse_

_Please R&R. Thanks!_

Racetrack lay in his bed, aimlessly staring at the bottom of the bunk above him. There were tiny, almost microscopic individual holes dotted across it, and he swore he had counted them all at least 1,000 times all ready. Strangely enough, the number always came up differently. This last time it was 10,349. Before that, it had been 11,445. It was a strange thing for him because Racetrack had always been good with numbers, yet he seemingly couldn't even count damn holes in a bed frame correctly.

He decided to just forget about it; he rolled over onto his side and sighed restlessly. Everyone else was fast asleep, and how he wished he was one of them. Night after night the young man would lay listlessly in bed, cold and alone. His mind raced with thoughts he could never speak of, not to anyone, not even to his best friend, Jack. They wouldn't understand how he felt; they'd probably shun him for it, and that was his main trepidation. Racetrack couldn't be known to other newsies as a vagabond...as a homosexual. Men had been killed for less.

His dark, brown eyes shifted slowly about the room, momentarily stopping on the sleeping forms that occupied each bed. He swallowed roughly; his throat felt dry now. The palms of his hands were beginning to sweat with anticipation as his hands grasped the bed covers. An urge was growing within him, an urge to release himself from the sheer agony he was now in. One of his hands moved, but only slightly, as he fought the desire to allow it to slip beneath the cover, and into his breeches. He groaned inwardly and bit his tongue so not to wake the others. His manhood was beginning to feel restricted beneath the cloth of his underwear and pants.

Biting his lower lip, Racetrack forced back another groan as he sat himself up. The blanket fell off his lap and onto the floor. His hands gripped the bedside, and he closed his eyes a few moments. The feeling, the longing, still wouldn't cease. He quietly stood up and began pacing back and forth. A quiet murmur from another, and he stopped in his tracks. The dark-haired boy now stood before another bunk. The meander had come from the mouth of the boy asleep on the top cot. It was Mush. He was laying flat on his back with one arm tucked under the side of his head. He was dressed in no more than his underwear, which for some reason tonight, wasn't pulled up and fastened. Perhaps he was just warm. It was a rather warm night outside, though every night seemed cold to Racetrack. How he yearned for warmth, if just once.

Timidly and slowly, he raised a hand to tug down the blanket that half-covered the other young man. At the sight of Mush's muscular chest, Racetrack couldn't help but to run his rough fingers along it, feeling every muscle in his stomach contract as he did so. Racetrack released a strained groan, his manhood throbbing with need of release. It was then the newsie noticed something. A slight bump could be seen rising within Mush's underwear. Whatever this beautiful boy was dreaming, it was definitely pleasing him. Racetrack cursed inwardly as he fought the urge to be that pleasure for him. How he just wanted to give the tan-skinned boy what he had secretly aspired for for as long as he could remember. The need had grown into lust, and Racetrack needed some satisfaction now if he wanted to retain his sanity.

He glanced around the room to make sure everyone else was still asleep and dreaming the night away. Racetrack smiled to himself and licked his lips with anticipation, for he was about to make his dream a reality. He turned his attention back to Mush. He reached his hand up again to this time touch the other boy's face. Then, it slowly ran down his chest and stomach; it continued on its exploration until it came to the curly-haired boy's most private area. It slipped beneath the opening of the underwear there. His fingers tangled in the dark pubic hairs a moment, before finding his manhood. To Racetrack's surprise and pleasure, Mush was all ready nice and hard. It was as if the boy had been waiting for this moment, waiting for him.

Racetrack's hand wrapped around Mush's generous length. He heard a soft groan escape the boy's lips, and that drove Racetrack absolutely mad with desire. He slipped his free hand into his own trousers and underwear to also touch himself while he touched Mush. The hand that was on Mush's manhood began to move rhythmatically, in slow, pumping motions. Mush's hand moved to grip the bedsheet, and Racetrack knew the other boy was now awake. Mush didn't open his eyes, though. He parted his lips and moaned again as Racetrack's skilled hand continued to relish his cock with such pleasure he had never felt before. By now, Racetrack didn't know what was more difficult, he and Mush keeping their moans to a minimum, or not just climbing up on the bunk with the other boy and fucking his brains out. There would be other times, though, and other places. They couldn't, not here, not now. This would have to do, and it was better than nothing.

A feeling grew in the pit of Racetrack's stomach. The first wave of orgasm was about to surface, but he fought to hold himself back. He re-opened his brown eyes and fixed them on Mush. He wanted to make the other boy come first, before he allowed himself to have his own sense of completion. Finally, the long-awaited orgasm washed over Mush; his body trembled at such a fine experience. Just as Racetrack felt the other newsie come right into his own hand, he found his own release. He let his face collide with the mattress of Mush's cot so to cover up his final groan; he was so relieved.

He couldn't have been sure then, but Racetrack could have swore he felt Mush's hand touch his head gently. But, when he looked back up, the other boy had turned over onto his other side to go back to sleep. The dark-haired newsie could only grin to himself as he went back to his own bed. He placed his hands under his head and closed his eyes, the smile never leaving his lips. Things weren't going to be so cold or lonely anymore.


End file.
